Two men participate in a kidnapping drill in an intensive self-defense course at the School of Personal Protection in Caracas. In 2011, there were 1,150 reported kidnappings in Caracas alone. It's widely believed that the vast majority of kidnappings aren't reported at all — in large part because many victims believe their kidnappers are police.

Fernando LlanoAP

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Originally published on June 6, 2013 7:18 pm

German Garcia-Velutini got into his car and left work one day. It took him 11 months to get home.

Kidnappers had nabbed the Venezuelan banker. His abduction is part of a problem that's been getting worse every year for the past decade in Venezuela, which belongs to a region riddled with crime and the most violent cities in the world.

Gracia-Velutini tells his story at an outdoor table at a hotel in Caracas, the capital, with a view of a mountainside that climbs into the clouds.

He recalls his departure from work that fateful day in 2009, which took him as usual to a highway ramp, where he had to hit the brakes.

"It was like a stopover by what I thought were policemen because of their jackets," he says. "They had long guns, automatic rifles."

Garcia-Velutini is a trim man, with glasses and a mild expression that matches his mild tone as he describes learning the men were not police.

"They took me out of the car and pushed me into another vehicle and injected me" in the thigh, he recalls.

"I passed [out] in seconds. ... When I woke up, I was being pushed in a small room. They took all my clothes," he says, leaving him only with a T-shirt and underwear.

The banker had fallen into the hands of professional kidnappers, who held him for months as they demanded ransom from his family.

"They were very proud of what they were doing. They took pride in their profession," says Garcia-Velutini, who came to that conclusion because of the kidnappers' elaborate techniques.

They kept him in one windowless room. Music played constantly so he would hear nothing from outside. Cameras followed his every move. He never saw his kidnappers, who pushed food and notes for him through a sort of doggy door.

Garcia-Velutini says the original note was a set of instructions, such as not to yell or pound on the doors, and a list of questions, including "How much are you worth?"

"[It] is a terrible question because if you are kidnapped [for] political reasons, you have some principles that you can stand by," he says. "Money doesn't have principles. You're merchandise."

With Economic Rise, A Tide Of Crime

There's a lot of money to be had in Latin America. Brazil is a rising economic power. Mexico and Venezuela are enormous oil producers. Poverty is receding in many places. Some people are actually migrating to Latin America from troubled economies in Europe.

Yet the region's dramatic rise has come along with dramatic violence. Studies suggest that crime is so serious it measurably restrains economic growth.

Caracas had 3,800 killings just last year and now ranks as the world's third most violent city. The only cities ahead of it are also in Latin America — San Pedro Sula, Honduras; and Acapulco, Mexico.

Analysts say a variety of factors drive high crime rates, from income inequality to official corruption. The Venezuelan government itself once estimated that 20 percent of the country's crimes are committed by police.

Police are even suspected of playing a role in many kidnappings, which helps to explain why it's hard to measure the problem. Although the number of reported kidnappings has soared in recent years, it's widely believed that most kidnappings are never reported to the police at all. People don't dare report kidnappings because they don't trust the police. Occasionally kidnappers will tell their victims, truthfully or not: "Don't try to report this to the police. We are the police."

A Tale Of Two Daughters

The unreported kidnappings include that of the daughter of a woman we met in Caracas, who asked us not to use her real name. Instead we're calling her Chilena.

We had a glass of wine in her kitchen as she told her story. Four years ago, gunmen grabbed her adult daughter. Then they called Chilena's home, demanding money. It was up to Chilena to negotiate the daughter's release.

"I thought that if I started crying, they could hurt my daughter," Chilena says. "I had to be as tough as they were."

Chilena refused to pay ransom, insisting she had no money.

Fortunately the kidnappers were in a rush and freed the daughter in exchange for the car in which she'd been kidnapped.

During the hours of negotiating, Chilena overheard one striking thing. A kidnapper asked her to hold on — while he took a call on another phone from his own daughter.

"Papa's working," the kidnapper said. "Don't worry."

For him, this was just business.

Because of the tough negotiation, he had a somewhat disappointing work night. But the kidnapping industry has innovators constantly trying new ways to keep the money flowing.

Kidnappers Innovate

We got a rundown of their innovations from Luis Cedeno of a Caracas organization called Paz Activa.

"Traditional kidnapping is when someone is taken, the family is called, they're asked for ransom," he says.

A different style of kidnapping is believed to be an import from Mexico: express kidnapping.

"They take you in your car and they go around to ATMs and extract money from your accounts. They go to stores, they buy expensive watches with your credit card, and then after maybe an eight-hour ordeal, they take your car but they leave you," he says.

The widespread fear of kidnapping has created a market for still more creative techniques, including what is known as the "virtual kidnapping."

That's when your phone service is cut off, and during those anxious hours when nobody can reach you, the virtual kidnappers pretend they've snatched you and demand a ransom from your family.

Like many businesses, kidnapping also takes advantage of telemarketing — done from prisons, he says.

Inmates make calls to countless people on a list, saying, "We know who you are, we know the name of your children." Some percentage of people will pay rather than risk being kidnapped.

No Longer Free

The most terrifying style of kidnapping remains what happened to Garcia-Velutini, the banker who spent months in that windowless room, struggling to keep his sanity.

He lined up fingernail clippings on the floor to keep track of the passing days. He had nothing to read but a Bible. He became more deeply religious. Once his family finally negotiated his release, the banker wrote a short book called Dios en mi Sucuestro, or God in My Kidnapping.

His religion gives him comfort, though not security. That's a fact that affects his daily life every day since his release.

"One of the [security] advisers told me, 'Well, German, from now on, you're going to be kidnapped by bodyguards,'" Garcia-Velutini says. "Now I ride in an armored car with escorts. It's a sense that you are not free."

To feel free, he must leave Venezuela.

"The most incredible [feeling] is the day I go to the airport and pass through immigration. Then I'm free, completely free," he says. "And then if I visit any city, I just walk. I don't need to go to museums, shops, anything, I just walk in the city. It's a wonderful sense to be able to walk, free."

Free, that is, until it's time to return to Caracas.

When we said goodbye in Caracas to German Garcia-Velutini, he walked swiftly to his car and climbed into the back seat.

A driver, and a burly bodyguard, took up the seats in front.

Copyright 2014 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

Transcript

RENEE MONTAGNE, HOST:

It's MORNING EDITION, from NPR News. I'm Renee Montagne.

LINDA WERTHEIMER, HOST:

And I'm Linda Wertheimer. Latin America has become the most violent region in the world. The capital of Venezuela, Caracas, had 3,800 killings last year, and now ranks as the planet's third most violent city. The only places ahead of it are also in Latin America, cities in Honduras and Mexico. In fact, when a Mexican think tank listed the world's 50 most violent cities, 41 were in this region.

MONTAGNE: MORNING EDITION's Steve Inskeep has a story now of a man who got in his car and left work one day. It took him 11 months to get home. The man is a banker in Caracas, where Steve recently met him.

STEVE INSKEEP, HOST:

The many varieties of Latin American crime include one type of crime the Venezuelan banker knows personally. German Garcia Velutini told us his story at an outdoor table at a hotel, with a view of a mountainside that climbs into the clouds.

GERMAN GARCIA VELUTINI: I was kidnapped in February 2009.

INSKEEP: Kidnapped, he says: a crime that's getting more common in Venezuela every year. Garcia Velutini's departure from work in 2009 took him, as usual, to a highway ramp, where he had to hit the brakes.

VELUTINI: It was like a stopover by what I thought were policemen, because of their jackets.

INSKEEP: It's like a checkpoint on the road. It looked like one.

VELUTINI: A checkpoint. And they had long guns.

INSKEEP: Like automatic rifles.

VELUTINI: Automatic rifles.

INSKEEP: Garcia Velutini is a trim man, with glasses and a mild expression, which matches his mild tone as he describes learning the men were not police.

VELUTINI: They took me out of the car and push me into another vehicle, and injected me. I passed away in seconds.

INSKEEP: You were given an injection. Where? In your...

VELUTINI: In the leg.

INSKEEP: In the thigh.

VELUTINI: Yes. When I woke up, I was being pushed in a small room. They took all my clothes.

INSKEEP: Leaving him only with a T-shirt and underwear. These professional kidnappers held Garcia Velutini for months as they demanded ransom from his family.

VELUTINI: They were very proud of what they were doing. They took pride in their profession.

INSKEEP: Which was plain from the kidnappers' elaborate techniques. They kept him in one windowless room. Music constantly played, so he would hear nothing from outside. Cameras followed his every move. He never saw his kidnappers, who pushed food through a sort of doggie door, and also pushed in notes for him to read.

VELUTINI: The original piece of paper was a set of instructions, which I was not to yell, and not to hit the doors. And a list of questions, like: How much are you worth? Which is a terrible question, because if you are kidnapped by political reasons, you have some principles that you can stand by. Money doesn't have principles. Money's just - you're merchandise. So it's...

INSKEEP: All you mean to them is an opportunity to get some gold, basically.

VELUTINI: To get some money. Yes.

INSKEEP: There's a lot of money to be had in Latin America. This is, in many ways, a golden time for the region. Brazil is a rising economic power. Mexico and Venezuela are enormous oil producers. Poverty is receding. Some people are actually migrating to Latin America from troubled economies in Europe. Yet the region's dramatic rise has come along with dramatic violence.

Studies argue that crime is so serious, it measurably restrains economic growth. Analysts say a variety of factors drive high crime rates, from income inequality to official corruption. The Venezuelan government itself once estimated that 20 percent of this country's crimes are committed by police.

We're on a mountainside on this evening, overlooking the lights of Caracas, a breathtaking view. We're standing at the entrance to a gated community. There's a security booth here and a sign saying security is the responsibility of all. Just a little reminder that some of the most beautiful spots in Latin America can also be among the most dangerous, which we learned when we heard a story of a woman inside this community who invited us into her kitchen to tell us. She asked us not to use her real name. Instead, we're calling her Chilena.

(SOUNDBITE OF WINE POURING)

INSKEEP: We had a glass of wine at the stone countertop in her kitchen. That's where she likes to chat with friends, and where she told her story.

CHILENA: (Spanish spoken)

INSKEEP: Four years ago, gunmen grabbed her adult daughter. Then they called Chilena's home, demanding money.

CHILENA: (Spanish spoken)

INSKEEP: I thought that if I started crying, they could hurt my daughter, Chilena said. I had to be as tough as they were. Chilena refused to pay ransom, insisting she had no money. Fortunately, the kidnappers were in a rush, and freed the daughter in exchange for the car in which she'd been kidnapped.

During the hours of negotiating, Chilena overheard one striking thing. A kidnapper asked her to hold on, please, while he took a call on another phone from his own daughter.

CHILENA: (Foreign language spoken)

INSKEEP: Papa is working, the kidnapper said, don't worry.

This was, for him, just business. Because of the tough negotiation, he had a somewhat disappointing work night.

But the kidnapping industry has innovators constantly trying new ways to keep the money flowing. We got a rundown of their innovations from Luis Cedeno, of a Caracas organization called Paz Activa.

LUIS CEDENO: Traditional kidnapping is when someone is taken, their family is called and they're asked for ransom.

INSKEEP: That's the kind we just heard about. A different style of kidnapping is believed to be an import from Mexico: express kidnapping.

CEDENO: They take you in your car and they go around to ATM's and extract money from your accounts. They go to stores. They buy expensive watches with your credit card. And then, you know, after maybe an eight-hour ordeal, they take your car but they leave you.

INSKEEP: So that's express kidnapping. The widespread fear of kidnapping has created a market for still more creative techniques.

CEDENO: One of them being the virtual kidnapping.

INSKEEP: What's a virtual kidnapping?

CEDENO: A virtual kidnapping is when you don't get kidnapped.

(LAUGHTER)

CEDENO: But your family thinks you're kidnapped.

INSKEEP: Your phone service is cut off. And during those anxious hours when nobody can reach you, the virtual kidnappers pretend they've snatched you and demand a ransom from your family.

Like many businesses, kidnapping also takes advantage of telemarketing.

CEDENO: It's done from prisons.

INSKEEP: Where inmates make calls to countless people on a list.

CEDENO: We know who you are. We're going to kidnap you. What do you mean? No, we know who you are. We know the name of your children.

INSKEEP: Some percentage of people will pay.

The most terrifying style of kidnapping remains what happened to German Garcia Velutini, the banker we met who spent months in that windowless room, struggling to keep his sanity, by keeping track of the passing days.

VELUTINI: I just cut my fingernails. I put it every day of the week, I put one - this represents one week and the other... And I kept track until...

INSKEEP: With little shavings of fingernails.

VELUTINI: Yes.

INSKEEP: Wow. He had nothing to read but a Bible. He became more deeply religious. Once his family finally negotiated his release, the banker wrote a short book called "Dios en mi Sucuestro," "God in My Kidnapping." His religion gives him comfort though not security.

How is your life different - your daily life different now than it was before you were kidnapped?

VELUTINI: Well, my daily life began about one week after kidnapping. One of the advisers told me, Well, German, from now on you're going to be kidnapped by bodyguards. So I now ride in an armored car with escorts. It's a sense that you are not free.

INSKEEP: He never loses that feeling until he leaves Venezuela.

VELUTINI: The most incredible is the day I go to the airport and pass through immigration. Then I'm free, completely free. And then if I visit any city, I just walk. I don't need to go to museums, shops, anything - I just walk in the city. It's a wonderful sense to be able to walk, free.

INSKEEP: At least until it's time to return to Caracas.

When we said goodbye in Caracas to German Garcia Velutini, he walked swiftly to his car. He climbed in the back seat. A driver and a burly bodyguard took up the seats in front.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

MONTAGNE: We have just begun our exploration of crime in Latin America. This region is home to dozens of the most violent cities in the world. Tomorrow, we travel to Brazil where NPR's Lourdes Garcia-Navarro has a story of Rio de Janeiro's attempts to bring down the level of violence there, ahead of the World Cup and Olympics.